


Blame It On My ADD, Baby

by Pluppelina



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Anal Sex, Happy Ending, M/M, Oral Sex, PWP, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Unsafe Sex, aggressive cleaning, mentions of cheating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-23
Updated: 2012-11-23
Packaged: 2017-11-19 08:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,599
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/571328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pluppelina/pseuds/Pluppelina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Sebastian comes home smelling like a 10 quid per hour hooker, all Jim wants to do is clean him up and make him his again. He's never been one to refuse his urges and Sebastian has never been one to mind.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blame It On My ADD, Baby

Sometimes, when they’re on a dry spell, Sebastian goes out and he finds himself a woman. Always a woman, never another man. Jim supposes it might be Sebastian’s remaining heterosexuality or something else altogether at work, but that’s the way it is, and that’s that. 

It doesn’t make Jim feel particularly happy when Sebastian comes stumbling home the next morning, smelling like strange perfume, the wrong detergent and low-brand shampoo. Sebastian has always showered, the smallest of all courtesies, but he never does it properly, because he still stinks. There are many things that Jim can take, but to have Sebastian reek of second hand whore is not one of them.

It happens so often that they’ve got a set routine. The one thing it does not involve is apologies. Sebastian knows damn well what he’s done and how it affects Jim, and Jim knows damn well that he’s not sorry, that he wouldn’t have done it if he’d regret it, because Sebastian is loyal enough to realise what it means to go behind Jim’s back. No. No, their ritual begins with Sebastian softly knocking the bedroom door, alerting Jim that he’s home, and Jim looks up from the computer screen or the book or his phone to see Sebastian shamefully not quite meeting his eyes.

“Again?” he asks, voice cold, just in case Sebastian didn’t do this, in case Sebastian looks so ashamed over something else, but Sebastian always - heartbreakingly - nods. He always looks like a dog with his tail between his legs like that, now more than ever, and it always gets to Jim that Sebastian bothered to admit his mistake at all. There is only one thing to say to that, only one thing to do; get Sebastian clean again. “Go undress.”

And Sebastian does, exits the room, goes into the bathroom. Jim sits still and he can hear through both the open doors that Sebastian takes his time about it, unbuttons his shirt, folds it, puts it on the little cupboard they keep in there and then he goes on to do the same with his jeans, his t-shirt, his socks and underwear. Jim waits for another couple of minutes, to let Sebastian stand there and feel the cold from the tiles seeping up through his feet and bite into his bones. This isn’t simply about hygiene; it’s also about punishment. 

Once Jim feels that enough time has passed in tense silence, he goes to get the vegetable scrubbing brush from underneath the kitchen sink. It’s never been used for scrubbing vegetables; no one has ever scrubbed vegetables in their kitchen. The only use it sees is when Sebastian decides to go do something he shouldn’t be doing. 

When Jim arrives in the bathroom, Sebastian’s already kneeling in the tub, eyes cast down, waiting. He knows what’s coming and he’s silently accepting it, silently accepting Jim’s cold rage and detachment towards the whole situation - the whole situation, because it’s easier to feel nothing but expected disappointment and mild disgust towards the whole situation than towards Sebastian. 

He’s naked and kneeling and probably willing too but Jim doesn’t feel any smallest attraction towards him like this. It’s too pathetic, Sebastian and the scrubbing brush and the whole wide world, much too pathetic for Jim’s body to react to the proximity and availability of a potential mate. When he turns the water on he makes it scalding on purpose and he does get some surge of satisfaction from the sour look on Sebastian’s face. That’s always something. 

He starts with Sebastian’s hands and Sebastian, who knows this routine by heart, holds them out willingly. Jim appreciates that because it means he won’t have to touch Sebastian’s dirty, dirty skin. Come to think of it - he shouldn’t have to do that at all, not ever, so he leaves Sebastian sitting in the hot water as he turns to retrieve a pair of latex gloves from the cupboard Sebastian put his clothes on top off, pulling them on and up to his elbows. Under normal circumstances, he loves to revel in Sebastian’s filth, loves the feeling and the scent of the grime of the daily work, of the tube and the cigarettes he’s smoked and the lunch he’s had and the gun powder residue on him, but not today; not today. Not when the dirt on him comes from another person. Sebastian is polluted, and Jim needs to make that right. 

So he turns around again, turns around and sees the desperation in Sebastian’s eyes, as if he’s waiting for Jim to come and save him from himself. Jim almost wants to throw the scrubbing brush at his head when he sees just how pathetic he is, how pathetic all of this is it, but in the end he just gives in and gets on with it. After all, he wants to save Sebastian too.

He still has his hands out in front of himself, offering them up for Jim to do anything he wants with. Not for the first time, he considers breaking his fingers, but as always he decides against it. They might’ve been inside of someone else, but their own insides is largely unchanged. Sebastian came back, after all. He knows who he belongs to; he just needs a little reminder.

The thought that Sebastian’s fingers were working some filthy cunt open just hours ago is still so disgusting Jim can’t even look at him right then. He knows that if he actually looks him in the eye, he’s going to want to kill him, but he also knows that he can’t afford to do that. He’s never going to find anyone else who’s able to support him as a second in command, as a chief of staff, as a top sniper and as a life partner; this is a once in a lifetime chance he’s gotten, and he isn’t about to throw it away just because Sebastian got horny. 

So Jim scrubs the palms of Sebastian’s hands until they look raw, until Sebastian looks like he’s in about as much pain as he can handle, and then he turns Sebastian’s hands over and does the same to the backs of them, the fingers, in between, underneath his nails; every last inch needs to be scrubbed clean of that filthy, filthy woman who took his Sebastian from him. Jim works his way upwards, over his arms, scrubbing them bright pink despite the permanent tan Sebastian seems to have. 

He doesn’t go easy on Sebastian, doesn’t show any restriction, but it’s done completely without passion. He doesn’t take any joy in this ritual; he just wants to have Sebastian back again, but he can’t afford to show Sebastian that because, if he had been in Sebastian’s position, to know that he was still wanted would be a comfort, and he doesn’t want to lend any of those to Sebastian just then. He just wants him to come back and be what he used to be again. 

He moves on to Sebastian’s shoulders, to the back of his neck, the front, up and over his face. He can tell that Sebastian tries to relax as he moves the brush harshly over his face, down his nose and cheeks, but the sniper still willingly sticks his tongue out to let Jim scrub that, too. It’s disgusting to think that Sebastian had it between someone else’s lips, someone else’s legs, just last night. He doesn’t want it to be like that, but it is, and it hurts, but he doesn’t show it; he just goes on scrubbing down over Sebastian’s chest. When he reaches his waist, Sebastian stands up to give him better reach, despite the fact that he knows what’s coming next.

He does the legs first, to let Sebastian squirm in anticipation for as long as he can, before he reaches up to scrub over Sebastian’s cock, hanging limp and passive between his legs. He knows that he could easily make it bleed but he chooses not to, because Sebastian’s going to need that soon enough. Instead, he sits back, to let Sebastian turn around, and work his way up the backs of his legs, his arse, his back, right back up to the back of his neck. Good. Now he’s managed to remove as much of raw material as he possibly can, it’s time to deal with the bacteria and viruses. 

He turns the shower off and drops the scrubbing brush down into the tub, to land between Sebastian’s feet, and reaches for the hand sanitizer. It’s perfect with its strong, alcoholic scent and promised effect and he knows that it’s going to sting over Sebastian’s raw skin and he wants this to hurt Sebastian so much that he can’t stand it because that’s how Jim feels; seconds away from cascading raw bile onto the white porcelain. It’s only thanks to the layer of latex between them and pure will power that he manages not to.

Sebastian is as pliant as ever, not protesting once as the sanitiser spreads over his skin and is carefully massaged into every last little crevice of his skin, because Jim knows that sometimes kindness can hurt the most. Sebastian lets him work it in between his arse cheeks, inside his ears, over his closed eyes and inside of his mouth, over the gums and teeth and tongue, and Jim is still wearing the latex gloves. He can’t quite bear to think about Sebastian’s skin against his own yet, not yet because they aren’t done yet. Jim, however, is, so he steps back to let Sebastian go ahead and do what he’s asked to.

It’s really very simple. Jim tells him to brush his teeth, and he does, taking his time about it, working hard to brush them as clean as he can possibly manage. Then comes the mouth wash, rinsing his mouth and then his throat and Jim’s glad that he knows for a fact Sebastian hasn’t swallowed anyone else’s come or he’d have had to clean him out from the inside as well. This is better; less messy. Easier. 

Sebastian spits in the sink and Jim cracks his neck. This is as clean as Sebastian will ever become, as devoid of other people’s touch as Jim can ever make him without involving the passing of time. The cells of a body don’t stay alive for as long as a body does; within seven years of this experience, every cell in Sebastian’s body will be a new one, a fresh one, one that was never touched by whatever slut was in bed with Sebastian yesterday. Jim’s biggest wish is to one day know that he’s the only person to have touched Sebastian for seven years. 

Only for that to happen, he obviously needs to touch Sebastian, needs to make him his own again, and Sebastian knows how this next part works just as well as he knew the first one. He’s more hesitant about this still, for reasons quite unknown to Jim; maybe he doesn’t want to assume that his punishment is over just because it’s run out. It’s at this juncture that Jim for the first time feels his sense of desire for Sebastian stir, when Sebastian turns away from the sink to kneel, still completely naked, a respectful distance away from Jim. Jim looks at Sebastian and Sebastian looks at the floor. Another few silent minutes pass until Jim gives in and says simply, “Bedroom.”

Sebastian doesn’t waste any time in getting up and heading out of view, presumably to sit down on the edge of the bed and wait for Jim to return. He takes another moment in the bathroom on his own, just to settle into this new mind set; Sebastian’s fine to touch again, he’s not toxic anymore. He’s going to be Jim’s again, all the way through.

When he does go out into the bedroom, he can see that he was right in his assumption. Sebastian’s sitting on the bed, just barely touching it, as though he’s afraid Jim will tell him he’s soiling it by his mere presence. It’s not an unprecedented concept, but it’s been a long good while since it happened; Jim enjoys Sebastian’s company far more than he used to, and as a consequence, Sebastian seems less annoying to him.

Jim strips down slowly and even though he can feel Sebastian’s passive, expectant eyes on him he doesn’t look back to meet his gaze or tell Sebastian to stop. It’s an innocent enough pleasure, watching, and Sebastian’s going to be doing a whole lot more before long anyway. He might as well look as Jim steps out of his pants, leaves them in a little pile on the floor, and heads over to push Sebastian back onto the bed.

They start to kiss before Sebastian’s head has hit the mattress. Jim loves the taste of Sebastian, or rather, the lack of taste of Sebastian. The mouth wash was quite strong enough to obliterate any taste but the strong mint of it, and Jim loves that, loves that he’s erased Sebastian’s original taste only to fill in the void with his own, loves it enough to let himself be wrestled onto his back and to allow Sebastian to settle on top of him and invade his mouth properly. It’s been so long he had almost forgotten what this feels like, but it feels so good he suddenly can’t remember why he ever wanted to deny himself this. 

They kiss for a long while, hands moving through hair and over exposed skin, and Jim can slowly feel Sebastian regain what he used to be, can slowly feel him fall back into step with and take his cues from his own body, and it makes him feel so very good to have that, to have Sebastian again, and soon enough he’s tense with arousal. He knows, logically speaking, that this wouldn’t have happened tonight unless Sebastian had gone to visit that slut, because in that case Jim wouldn’t have had a reason to rediscover his body after several weeks without it. He can’t quite bring himself to be grateful, but he can easily imagine that it encourages Sebastian to go out and cheat on him. He can never quite bring himself to care as he finally rolls over on his back to let Sebastian do what he does best.

The only reason Jim knows that Sebastian always gives oral to the girls he’s with is that Sebastian also loves to give him oral. When Jim rolls over like this, Sebastian’s first thought is never to stick his cock into him; it’s always his tongue first, almost desperately, as though Jim is a delicious treat Sebastian gets to taste all too rarely. It makes Jim feel so loved and worshipped and wanted when Sebastian does that, kisses the back of his neck and moves on down his spine as if he can’t wait to reach his destination, that he can’t quite bring himself to be upset with the man for anything anymore. 

It works like a charm this time as well. He lifts his hips a bit to ease Sebastian’s way and Sebastian helps him hold them up, spreads his cheeks and moves in eagerly. Sebastian doesn’t waste any time by teasing but goes right on, works around Jim’s hole before he dips his tongue into it and a surge of electric pleasure shoots up Jim’s spine and he moans loudly, squirming subconsciously underneath Sebastian, pushing up closer towards his face to get Sebastian’s tongue deeper inside. It’s an attempt Sebastian is more than happy to assist in. 

It feels so good to Jim that he’s desperate for more direct stimulation quickly. Normally they can both keep at it for longer, much longer; Jim’s sure that Sebastian would be glad to do it for hours, keeping Jim right on the brink or bringing him over several times. Right now, though, Jim doesn’t have the patience for it, and Sebastian can tell from his body language. He helps him spin back around and hardly waits a beat before he takes his cock as far down his throat as it’ll go, sucking and moving and moaning and it’s so absolutely perfect to have Sebastian again, Sebastian is so perfect, and Jim’s hands in Sebastian’s hair don’t have to hold him down with force as he comes; Sebastian swallows it eagerly all on his own. 

For a few minutes Jim just lies there with his head spinning and his heart beating and listens to the roaring of blood in his eyes as the last of the pleasures settles into his cells and calms his nerves. There’s nothing quite like this to take the edge of the horribleness of the inside of his own mind and he’s glad that he has Sebastian, that he was clever enough to get to keep Sebastian, Sebastian who is so faithful that he waits, kneeling and rock hard, by Jim’s feet for further instruction. 

Sometimes Jim will feel vindictive once he’s come down from his orgasm and sometimes the orgasm doesn’t help to settle the betrayal of Sebastian’s infidelity, and then he lets Sebastian go without any further words to put off what they both know is coming eventually for hours or sometimes days, but not this time. This time, their dry spell has gone on for long enough that Jim is too glad to have Sebastian back to feel very upset with him, and when he opens his eyes to see Sebastian looking down at him pleadingly but without saying a word, all he feels is lust for more and for Sebastian to be closer.

He spreads his arms and they cuddle for a while, to give Jim’s body a chance to catch up with the idea of a second round and let Sebastian’s calm down a little to be equally prepared for it, and then they kiss again. This time, Jim can taste himself above all else in Sebastian’s mouth, all of himself, and that turns him on even more than the first set of kisses had. He wraps his arms and legs around Sebastian and clings to him hard, and he wishes that they didn’t ever have to break apart, but of course they do eventually. They’re both more than ready by the time Sebastian breaks the kiss to reach over towards the night stand and the waiting tube of lubricant because even in the heat of the moment he thinks of Jim’s comfort first. Sebastian really is a good dog most of the time, such a good, good dog, and Jim spreads his legs wider around Sebastian’s fingers inside of him and relaxes completely. It speeds up the process so much when Sebastian’s already had his tongue inside of Jim for a good five minutes; sometimes, when they make it to upwards an hour, no additional lube is required at all, provided they use a condom.

They’re not going to use a condom now. Sebastian used a condom with the woman because he wants to stay clean, because he knows Jim won’t have him if he doesn’t stay clean, and just this once they can risk it. Just this once, because if they do use a condom, Jim isn’t getting Sebastian’s cock all covered up in himself, isn’t putting his own taste and touch and scent on Sebastian. If they use a condom now, Sebastian will just be switching latex for latex, and Jim won’t have that, so there’s nothing between them when Sebastian sinks into him slowly, still with Jim’s legs wrapped around his hips, feet crossed across his arse, drawing him in deeper.

If they ever made love, this would be it. When they’ve been apart for as long as they have taking it slow is a necessity and Jim suspects that the grateful happiness mingled with the promise of a second orgasm is the closest he’s every going to get to feeling love for Sebastian. It isn’t love, though, and they both know it, so even though there’s something in Sebastian’s eyes that looks to Jim like so much exquisitely painful affection it isn’t making love. It’s just slow fucking, a grinding of flesh made slower because of kindness and prolonged pleasure, and that’s all there is to it. Jim has never wished for more and what Sebastian wishes for has never been more besides the point; dogs don’t get to eat at the table, they take what bits you give them underneath it. If anyone is good at eating under the table, it’s Sebastian; he always makes the most out of what Jim gives him, and this doesn’t seem to be an exception to that rule at all. 

The kisses they share meanwhile is sloppy, more tongue than lips, because they’re both short of breath and Jim is shivering with the anticipation of what’s yet to come and Sebastian’s hands seem to be made of static electricity and Jim doesn’t need a hand on his cock to come and Sebastian doesn’t even need two seconds before he’s coming too, deep inside of Jim, just as it should be. 

Sebastian stays inside of him as he collapses on top of him, all quite liberate and carefully coordinated to cause Jim as little discomfort as possible, and Jim nips Sebastian’s neck lovingly as he does it. Yes. He really did miss this, miss his Sebastian. “Tiger,” he whispers softly before he settles back again, and Sebastian chuckles, low and exhausted. It’s good to have him home again.


End file.
